Home Poems | Examples of Home Poetry

HOME* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ night is full of dreams imagination runs free my heart finds its home *Note: This poem was published in June, 2025 at Poetry Soup. (poetrysoup.com › poem › home_1740703). I deleted it but am reposting. This is my original poem. ...

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A blank page, A blank mind, My thoughts consumed by one thing… You. I tried burying myself in organising, And even then you pop up everywhere, It’s like my brain won’t stop, I can’t do anything without you, Or so it seems. I’m shaking just thinking about losing you, But yet there’s a peace in me, I know you’ll be fine, I know you’ll come back, I know… I...

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MORE THAN BRICKS AND MORTAR ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ inside the closet faded photographs a lifetime etched on smiling faces the echo of lives lived here the weight of belonging ...

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Pictures plastered on my offwhite walls. Some coloured, some drawn, some art. Some represent where I walked in halls. Some represent deepest parts of my heart....

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boundless … are the fleshy trails this vagabond has traveled … but yours - toes-to-calf-to-knee then tenderly on like a soft-winding path of highland heather the savory slope of your thigh leads me sweetly … home. ...

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The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes is his beautiful smile , as she sits up and tries but the doctor says ' no, you cant get up yet' it was a long operation, and the healing to let the surgery not good, but had to be done and wont know for weeks if she's finally won but...

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Winter storm. Question marks fall like snow on shoulders bent with seeking. Hollow caverns where certainty once lived echo chambers of why. Face pressed against cold glass. Fingertips trace what cannot be grasped. Footsteps soft on unseen paths. Autumn leaves crumble in cupped palms. Dreams, half-formed, scatter like dust through fingers that cannot hold. Shell splits. Light finds the crack, makes...

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Born and bored in The South; Schooled and wedded in The North. The West provided experience and maturity; But I kept my distance from The East. The South never felt like home; But it made me want to roam. The North felt crowded and rushed; And The East seemed a bit much. In every region, many things went wrong And sometimes I felt shut...

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The mountains wept. The skies moaned. The soil trembled. The trees whispered their last green prayers— "Man has destroyed us... alone." He who adds no value takes all, then leaves nothing— just wastelands where rivers once sang. The year was 2100. Half of Britain—gone beneath the Atlantic. Japan—smaller than a dot on a map. American states—flooded into memory. Europe—erased. Russia’s frost—melted into pestilence. Africa— Famine became the air. Children born on...

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At 7 she is at her father’s mercy She will be shown no mercy A life with absolutely no love She will be like a lonely dove Sitting in the nest Doing her best She will never taste true love She will never be as free as a dove Being groped and touched by her dad Is a life that is so very sad She...

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I love the home of the free I love the home of the brave I love my freedom of speech United States of America ...

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Son, please stay home for Christmas day, You are often out in trouble and out at play; Let's celebrate with our kith and kin Sharing some cookies and hot tea Sitting by the fire or near the tree; Stay home for Christmas, son Set aside your plans of running away Stick around with us, remain with me....

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Xenophobia is a one-eyed monster, the fear is so debilitating that home is all the world one needs. But when fear of strangers turns to prejudice against people from other countries, it's time to analyze the problem at its root. When do we stop feeding the hate that's rampant in this world of ours? AP: 3rd place 2025...

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Roots That Breathe Within My Heartbeat At every step, their shadow guides me, My father, steady as an oak in the breeze, my mother, tenderness in all that feeds. Their hands wove the thread of my fate, with patience, love, and a steady gait. Though time may rush and the world may spin, my heart always flows back to...

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Idyllic Hudson Valley, New York …Lord of Rings’ shire. A vineyard, filled with rich and famous names. I’m pleased to be impressed by the artists, as they surrender idyllic charm with paint. Emerald green; delicious apple bites, wind chimes through the pines, mountains of Catskill. The headless horseman of Sleepy Hollow - to drink, deep, the forests of Van Winkle. Freedom fostered in cobblestone...

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